Forsworn
by Elfique
Summary: A maiden of Doriath holds love for the famed Marchwarden Beleg yet will love endure trials and ever truly blossom?
1. A Return

Forsworn

A Return

_Beleg had lain down his mighty bow for the time and stayed in the peace and comfort of his home when this tale begins._

Fondly touching the polished wood as he put it away in his room Beleg adjusted his tunic and left the room, following the sound of music. As always there would be dancing in the hall and his light steps quickened as he neared the hall. It seemed he had been away for too long, seemed his feet had been walking and hunting too much since they had last danced in the beautiful hall. But that night they would dance again.

Light streamed from the open doorway and Beleg smiled as he walked in and saw familiar smiling faces whirling past in dance. Tall and beautiful carved pillars stretched high above the dancers to the ceiling, along the walls were decorated with painstakingly created tapestries and murals showing the beautiful kingdom of Doriath. The bright colours of tunic and dress flashed in front of Beleg as he stood and watched momentarily from the doorway. He felt the music flowing through him and springing lightly over to a group also watching he took the hands of a maiden and brought her into the dance.

"Beleg!" she cried happily

"Ah, yet another one of my many admirers," he jested as he began to spin her around "How does life treat Ariende then?"

"Life treats her very well. Is this as fast as you can go?" she teased. Grinning at her Beleg began whirling her around faster

"Fast enough?" he asked

"Only just," Ariende laughed playfully "So does the outside and the forest still satisfy your longing for adventure?"

"Yes, still. Yet home often calls me back as you can see." Beleg replied smiling,

"Well for that I am glad," she smiled back "everyone misses you being here when you are out wondering the wilds!"

By then a new song had been started by the musicians and they both swapped partners and did not see each other again that night and neither did Beleg consider the more personal feelings behind Ariende's words.

* * *

A few days after his arrival back an archery contest had been organised (presumably for his pleasure thought Beleg) and he strode nonchalantly into the clearing with his bow and a slight smile.

"Ai! Beleg returns!" an elf cried out in mock fear "We are all vanquished! We may as well not start!" The crowd that had gathered to watch laughed at his antics.

"Pleasant greetings to you too my good friend! Do not let me spoil your fun Celebros: I will not enter the competition, only get some practise!" Beleg said as he fitted one of his green feathered arrows to his bow. Celebros sneaked behind him playfully and the crowd stifled laughter as Beleg, aware of his friend rolled his eyes. Just as Celebros was to knock the end of Beleg's bow he found the point of the arrow at his nose. Grinning Beleg lowered the bow and shot the arrow between his friend's feet. Picking up the arrow and offering it back to Beleg Celebros smiled.

"No-one can outmatch Beleg Cúthalion it seems!" he announced to the crowd "It is good to see you again friend," he told Beleg as the arrow was taken from his hands.

"Again I am told!" laughed Beleg "It seems that as I am in such great demand I will make my stay longer."

"Did I hear correctly?" Ariende's voice sounded from behind him "Beleg is staying longer than two nights before running away into the wilds again!" Beleg was unsure how to take this comment, was she jesting? It was hard for him to tell and there was a silence between them.

"Well I will take advantage of this and dance every night for none here step so lightly as Ariende," he said to ease the tension. Seeing her smile he relaxed and they sat down together to watch the competition, after it was over Beleg put his hand down to help himself stand and his fingers touched Ariende's. Feeling this she looked down and then met Beleg's eyes, hurriedly looking away and standing, she was about to leave when Beleg sprang agilely up beside her

"I will see you in the Hall?" he asked before she could leave. Waiting for an answer he pondered her behaviour; he knew this was not normal.

"Yes, I will be there" she answered before hurrying off.

* * *

_In the time that passed when Beleg stayed in the peace of his home he spent much time with his friends and danced often with Ariende. Yet the time came again when he felt the pull of adventure and the call of the outside world. He spoke no goodbyes for they only prolonged and saddened his leave._

Half running through the corridors and halls Ariende searched for Beleg. Sighing when she could not find him she thought of where he might be. Not with Celebros - she had sighted him alone already and he was not to leave to resume his duty as a Marchwarden for a few days anyway, in the presence of the Lord and Lady? No she had been there…outside? The thought crossed her mind, outside in the wilds? There was only one way to find out, hurrying back to his room where she had first started her search she opened the door and scanned the room. No, the great bow had gone from the room, he had left. Quietly turning around she shut the door behind her and walked to where her friends would be. Celebros saw her saddened expression and walked over,

"He has left?" he asked softly, Ariende nodded back. "He will return, do not fear of that. He will return for you," Ariende looked sharply at Celebros for his words, doubting the meaning behind them, yet he smiled encouragingly at her, "Beleg is a good friend; I can see he feels for you. Wait patiently for his return and I think you shall see too,"

"I deem it will be a long time before I truly dance again," she sighed "yet wait I will."


	2. Warmth

Warmth

_Waiting many months for his return the Dancing Hall seemed dull to Ariende and her dancing was dimmed yet she still took part. As the seasons past and the weather had considerably chilled Beleg returned once more and rested his bow._

As she walked to the Dancing Hall Ariende felt her hand taken by another. She looked up in reaction to the face of the elf. Beleg smiled

"And how does life treat Ariende?" No answer was needed as her laughter sounded in his ear as she threw her arms about him, she moved away slightly afraid she had pushed contact too far but smiled nevertheless. He led her into the hall and they waited for the musicians to start

"So where have you travelled this time?" she asked

"Oh, here and there" Beleg answered with a grin "Yet it became unpleasant in this bitter season and something at home called me back." Ariende wanted to enquire of this last comment but Beleg brushed aside her questions and began to spin her around in the same manner as the last time he had returned, yet that night they did not swap partners; after the lively tune had finished they stood looking at each other and waited for the next song to be started. It was a slow tune and Ariende looked at Beleg to see what he would do; without hesitation he slowly drew her closer to him and spun her in small circles amongst the other dancers. Looking up at his face Ariende met his eyes and could not look away from them. She often avoided eye contact, seeing it as a confrontation, but this was different, there was no penetrating stare, just a shine.

Thoughts rushed in and out of her mind as she they twirled around. His muscles could be felt under his supporting touch around her waist but his touch was never too strong or forceful as Ariende first expected it to be, and despite the travel and battle scars his hands delicately held her own. It now didn't seem unbelievable to Ariende that she was falling in love with this warrior.

Beleg had loved her from afar at first for many a year, watching her quiet and careful movements. The last few stays at Doriath had brought him even closer to her and his love was the reason he had left the previous time. It was the first thing that he couldn't defeat or handle, and in his wanderings he had realised all he could do was accept his feelings and hope that she returned them. The relief that she did feel something, if only a little, for him coursed through him as they danced closely together.

There was a thought in him that he could stay with her like that forever but it was brief and flickered out like a small lamp left in a breeze. He would never be able to stop his wandering, he loved Arda more than anything and he worried that Ariende would not accept that.

* * *

Crisp winter morning air surrounded Beleg as he waited outside the main halls for her to meet him. Idly he drew patterns in the snow with his foot while he waited. He heard the main doors open and saw it was her, a heavy cloak protected her from the snow and strands of her brown hair fell out from under the hood. Smiling he waited for her to reach where he stood and then just as she neared him he let the handful of snow he had hidden from her fly towards her. Ariende let out a childish shriek as she tried to dodge the missile but it showered her face in a blast of icy coldness. Moving toward her Beleg reached out and wiped the moisture from her face laughing at her, he realised the closeness in which they stood but did not move away. 

"Do you know what they are saying in the halls after such a display of dancing last night?" Ariende said with laughter tinting her voice

"I can imagine," Beleg replied laughing "So, are you ready for your walk my lady?"

Ariende took his hand in reply and he led her off the path into the trees around them. As they walked Beleg pointed out small things to her that no elf other than the famed bowman and hunter of Doriath would notice. Ariende was delighted by all of this and more so when, later on, it began to snow, taking her hand from Beleg's she spun and danced alone in the falling flakes. As she looked up to the darkening sky her hood fell back and her hair tumbled down her back, catching flakes of snow in it. She spun closer to Beleg and then finally stopped in front of him. Gently, he smoothed her hair back and put her hood back up, his hand lingered near her face and softly brushed off flakes of snow.

"We must not stay out too long" he said glancing to the sky, "Much more snow will fall and I cannot let a lady be stranded outside the halls for a night. The places I know to stay are not fit for such a maid as Ariende."

Touched by his compliments and concern, Ariende did not protest as he guided them back to the halls. True to Beleg's word the snow had began to fall thicker and heavier, it was becoming hard for her to see between the thick and fast falling flakes. Keeping a tight hold upon Beleg's hand she strived to draw her cloak about her and keep out the cold. The icy touch of winter seemed to hold her in its cold grip and Ariende had not realised quite how far they were from the halls. Whether Beleg was feeling the cold as much as she was, Ariende could not fathom. Glancing to him she doubted he was; the stories he had told of sleeping out in the wilds in conditions that must be worse than this. In the snow blanketed world Ariende could recognise no familiar landmarks that would tell her where she was. Reassured by Beleg's strong hold on her hand she simply hoped it would not be too far.

It was not too long a time before they left the eaves of the great forest and the doors to the Halls of Doriath had never seemed more welcoming to Ariende. Hurrying inside they both cast off their damp cloaks in the entrance and began to feel the drip of water off their hair. Taking their cloaks in one hand and putting an arm about Ariende's shoulders to warm her, Beleg began to walk in the direction of their rooms,

"I do not think dancing would be a wise choice this night."


	3. Blossoming

_Note: Lately i've been hugely disillusioned with fanfiction due to lack of feedback the amount of stuff thats starting to infiltrate the silmy section but i got a review for this yesterday and its inspired me to put something up again. _

_Please review. _

* * *

Blossoming

Sinking down into the warm cinnamon scented water Ariende was glad to be back inside the warm halls. She smiled fondly thinking of the day she had spent. When they had finally reached the halls Beleg had escorted her to her room, lit a fire and sat her in front of it with a warm blanket. Before she could protest and argue she could manage by herself he had left to arrange a bath for her. She had been delighted when she caught the scent of cinnamon that Beleg had surely arranged himself knowing her love for the smell and besides that the warming and stimulating qualities of the spice (1).

_I am quite lucky _she thought to herself as again she thought back on the day. The way he had touched her face, the simple gestures that suddenly seemed so much. Doubt however, still niggled at the back of her mind like a splinter; was it still just friendship? Often she had considered Celebros' words to her after Beleg had left the previous time and often she had thoughts that prompted her to think otherwise. The splinter was becoming more aggravating and painful as Ariende examined it, sighing she decided it was best to leave it to come out of its own accord.

The water was beginning to chill and not wishing to experience any further cold that day, Ariende found a nightdress and slipped the soft and comforting material over her head. Sitting upon the end of her bed Ariende took a fine metal comb to her long tresses and began to slowly remove the small knots. Satisfied, her slender fingers twisted the tresses into long braids. Moving to her wooden table, small vines carved down the legs, a trademark of the simple elegance of Doriath, she searched for ribbons or clasps to secure the braids. Her hand brushed over something dry and crinkled like old parchment. Looking down, Ariende observed a tiny, beautifully preserved and pressed orchid beneath her fingers. It had not been there that morning yet before she could contemplate it there was a light knock upon her door. Grasping a robe from a chair on her way to the door, Ariende drew it around her and opened the door a fraction to peer outside.

Beleg's strong and striking profile came into view, the high set cheekbones framed by partly braided drying hair and his eyes that at that moment caught in the firelight from her room and glinted pleasantly in the dark hallway outside. Seeing her state of clothing Beleg hastily drew away from the door and began to murmur out an apology "I am sorry I did not think that you would not be in full attire… I just came to check you were recovered from our adventure in the snow," he gave a slight smile. "I shall see you in the morning," he continued and then turned to go. Seeing him turn away Ariende suddenly laid her hand upon his arm and stopped him. Almost surprised at her own actions she looked at where her hand rested and then back to Beleg's face "Do not go yet". How strange a simple touch could seem so much. She wished to look at his face, to see what he was feeling, to look into his eyes; did she dare? One quick glance – she could not resist. The warm smile Ariende saw was enough to let her slowly bring her hand away and smile back at him, relieved.

"I have a task worth of the greatest of marchwardens," Ariende said with a light laugh as they entered the room. Raising his eyebrows slightly in interest and returning her jest Beleg waited for her to explain. "It is more of a quest if you would care," she continued lightly and beckoned for him to follow her to the table. Pointing to the orchid she continued her light hearted jesting: "I chanced across this earlier and have no thoughts as to how it came to be in my room. Surely Beleg Cúthalion the mightiest of Doriath can fathom this mystery? If he cannot then maybe cleaning the halls would be a better suited job than marchwarden." Unable to suppress her laughter at the expression on Beleg's face she could barely finish speaking.

"Or maybe Ariende should learn her place and not speak out of turn to those far more powerful than her?" Beleg said in mock threat. Before she could even begin to turn and run from her advancing companion, Ariende found Beleg had both her hands tightly gripped behind her back. From where Beleg stood behind her, his breath ticked the back of Ariende's neck as he spoke "I believe, my lady, that you need to apologise for certain comments if you wish for my aid". Barely stopping his own laughter Beleg, released his hold upon Ariende and swiftly apologised in fear that he had unintentionally gripped too hard.

"Let me examine this flower then," Beleg stated and held out his hand for the orchid once they were both seated in front of the fire. His eyes narrowed as he examined it and held it up to the light "You are sure you did not press this yourself? Mayhap you have forgotten and it has merely been caught upon something else and moved from where you first put it" Beleg suggested returning the orchid to her. Ariende cradled the orchid in her palm lest she drop it into the fire, it was truly beautiful despite its size. The small petals were a beautiful purple hue that deepened towards the edges. Surely she would remember finding such a flower; the memories of elves are endless with their age and yet Ariende had no memory of the orchid. Shrugging slightly she took the orchid and placed it in a small carved wooden box that had been a gift to her from the Lady Melian for her services in the halls.

"I should leave you now," Beleg said as he stood "You are surely wishing for peace after the interesting day we have shared". Standing in front of Ariende by the open door he smiled tenderly and gently put his hand to the side of her face "Goodnight Ariende." The whispered words still echoed in her head as he swiftly disappeared down the corridor. Closing the door and leaning back against it Ariende could not stop her smile and the growing feeling of joy within her that seemed to bubble and spring. Lying down contented on her bed Ariende turned her head upon the pillow and lying next to her head was a small yet beautiful pink orchid.

* * *

(1) true fact! It's warming stimulating aaand comforting. 

comment foos.


	4. Freeze

Freeze

_After an overlong stay at the Thousand Caves, Celebros had returned to his lodgings at the North Marches and resumed his work as a marchwarden. Despite the fact only a few days had passed whilst he was at the halls Beleg himself had grown restless and Ariende had often seen him handling his bow looking thoughtful as he tested the string._

Two cloaked figures walked between the trunks of large and towering trees deep in conversation, often with glances to the other. Light steps barely left a print in the snowy covering upon the ground and their steps were swift yet not hurried or rushed. It was as if time was passing them by yet years were not affecting them.

"When are you leaving?" Ariende asked after Beleg had finished a tale about one of his journeys. Sharply looking at her, Beleg stopped walking. "I have not spoken a word of leaving" he replied taking Ariende's hand to stop her moving on. "Yet I know you wish to go" was her whispered reply as a look that Beleg could not fathom passed across her face. He hung his head as if a child caught taking food from the kitchens. How could she have guessed? The revelation that Ariende knew him so well was a slight comfort to Beleg in that awkward moment yet he felt tugs of guilt at leaving again so soon. Sensing Ariende was upset under her stoic visage he attempted to comfort her. "I promise I shall not be long away, I promise you that," he said gently. This caused her head to raise from where she looked down and studied the snow upon the floor and Beleg was relieved to see faint traces of a smile gracing her face. "I also promise I shall not leave without a farewell."

"Will you return by the Spring festivities?" Ariende asked somewhat hesitantly, "…it is just I hoped we might dance then."

Beleg fought extremes of tenderness that made him wish to take hold of her and dance right then, to cast the snow from the floor with their feet. "On the morn of the festivities I will be found waiting for the first dance with the fair Ariende" was his solemn reply.

* * *

To Ariende's exasperation, lying upon the chair inside her room when they had returned from a walk was yet another orchid. Looking about the room for a source for the flower Ariende's eyes finally rested on Beleg for some sort of explanation – surely the marchwarden would have an answer this time. Gently picking it up Beleg held it to a candle's light and examined it. "It appears no older or fresher than the other buds that you have come across," then after a pause he continued "After pondering these strange little mysteries and riddles I perceive that these flowers were bestowed upon you; favours from an admirer." 

Shock hit Ariende and she fancied she felt her legs weaken. This could not be. How could another view her so when there was only one whom she could return feelings for, only one that held her heart, only the one who stood by her.

Slowing her hammering pulse Ariende regained control of her mind, desperately trying to find another reason for the flowery gifts "Yet the other day you had no answer to the first orchid's origin – how is you come to such a conclusion so quickly?"

"The first was only one flower" Beleg said simply "Another two, and who knows maybe more, that show similar age, placed somewhere where you will most definitely encounter them… to me it seems that you have caught an admirer's eye."

Scanning the handsome and finely structured face before her Ariende looked for any sign of rivalling challenge, sorrow that another had taken in interest in her….any sign of anything she searched for yet the face before her remained impassive. A slow sinking began insider her, to Ariende it felt as if every fibre of her being was being pulled toward the ground, somehow sinking through the hard floor beneath her feet.

He did not care for her as she had wished, hoped and thought. Only a friendship, if a close one, existed between them. Dragging her spirits back up from the floor Ariende managed to face her _friend_ again. Avoiding eyes and trying to look past the comely features to the door beyond Ariende then found she had nothing to say.

"If you wish, I shall lend my services to aid you in finding you admirer…and then I shall either bring him before you or defend my lady from unwanted affections" Beleg's words and humour failed to give Ariende a cause to smile.

_Or you could lend your heart_. The words she did not have the courage to speak echoed around her mind.

"Although we had planned to dance one last time before you leave, I now wish to be alone," managing a weak smile she continued "I apologise."

"I can understand" Beleg said slowly, moving toward the door "Meet me at the doors at dawn."

* * *

He was already there waiting when Ariende walked out onto the bridge. The sunlight reflected off the snow creating an almost harsh light. Allowing her eyes to quickly adjust to the light and to avoid looking at Beleg, Ariende kept her head down. No more time to look into those bright eyes, no gazing at the fair face. 

"Good morning," she heard the greeting and could not help looking up at him, smiling she felt there was nothing to say, echoing his own words would sound almost stupid. "I still hold my promise that I will return by the spring," he said softly.

"I will wait until then," Ariende replied knowing in truth she would be waiting a lot longer, "I will miss you," she whispered, almost fearing to say it. Beleg smiled gently and stepped toward her

"Smile," he murmured, "for there are things to be happy for." Ariende looked down puzzled as to what Beleg was now gesturing at, close to her body. What she saw caused any trace or thought of a smile to leave her.

Tucked in the silver clasp of her cloak rested another orchid.

When Ariende looked up again, Beleg had silently left and was not within her sight.


	5. Changing Seasons

Resting her arms upon the grey stonework Ariende looked over the bridge at the now steadily and increasingly flowing water below as others walked past her. In one palm there was yet another orchid, no less beautiful than the others she had recently found hidden away in her room; one was even in the tapestry she had been working on for one of the halls. Sighing, Ariende stared hard at the object. Ever she had been alert to another's interest in her, yet no one requested to dance more than usual, no one spoke more or sought her alone and there was no one new she noticed. Bitterly she let it drop and watched it be pulled swiftly from her on the clear waters of the Esgalduin.

Only one would she accept tokens or gifts from, and he did not bestow them. But still she waited for his return at the beginning of the spring.

"Do not throw them away!" a desperate voice cried. Turning in expectancy Ariende saw none other than Beleg running to her side. Ariende waited for his explanation now confused and possibly more hurt by his behaviour, for did he not know that she did not care for anyone else's affections…of course he did not.  
"It took me long to find and hide those so cunningly!"  
Eyes widening Ariende slowly realised as a fresh and newly grown orchid was offered to her.  
"You!" she gasped. Beleg's eyes glinted with laughter as Ariende looked upon him with an expression of mixed anger and relief. Was she to strike him for lying to her? Shun him for his cruel behaviour? Or laugh along with him at her own foolishness?  
Bending slightly he took her hand and raised it to his lips, "I am here to claim first dance of the festivities, that is, if the lady will have it so?"  
All confusion and doubt left her and smiling she replied; "You must know that I would have it no other way."

* * *

_Several years had passed of Beleg's courtship of Ariende when a mortal entered Doriath, a mortal that would change all. _

Ariende stood silent, burning with curiosity and watching as the boy was received, as chairs and comfort were hastily brought for those who accompanied him. He was not daunted, this mortal child, his gaze met that of Thingol's with a solemnity that only grief and hardships could bring.

So. Dor-Lómin was falling. Grave news seemed to besiege them, her heart twinged with fear and worry for he that relentlessly patrolled their land, he who wandered without bounds, he who had led the child and his companions safely through the wilds and he whom she loved. Back to the child her thoughts went from their wanderings, best not to torment oneself with worries of the unknown; surely his own arrival at the halls would not be too far behind those whom he had guided.

Later she surprised herself with the speed at which she rose when care for the new son of her Lord was requested, the Lady nodded in gratitude as Ariende held out her hand to the child. He did not take it, the realisation at his pride almost humbled her and she quickly withdrew her hand. Instead he walked to her side and proceeded to follow as she led him out of the hall. From within the shadows of the great hall a figure watched the proceedings intently.

She hoped language would not be too much of a barrier and gave a slight smile. Beneath it all, he was tired, exhausted. Once out of sight and great company his steps were less sure, she heard the uneven tread upon the stone floors behind her and glanced over her shoulder. Still his head was raised, back straight as the tallest, proudest standard. Mortals truly were surprising creatures. Reaching the bathing rooms, Ariende held open a door and refreshing scents wafted out with the steam. Ushering him in she pointed out the thick soft towels resting on a stone ledge and the bars of soap and oils beside it, before gesturing it his dirtied clothing and then her own immaculate dress and then to the door and back, speaking slowly in hope he would pick up some of the words and understand. His eyes narrowed and brow furrowed briefly before he was nodding at her and turning away towards the beckoning water.

Closing the door quietly behind her Ariende wondered where she would find clothes to fit the child. He was broader than most elven children of his height yet still not grown to his full stature. New garb would be made in time, she would probably be seeing to that herself with the Lady's other attendants, but right now there was no way he could appear back in the Great Hall wearing the muddied and stinking clothes he had arrived in. Especially not someone of his importance. Perhaps something of Beleg's may fit…Before being able to stop herself Ariende was making her way to his chambers, he always left his more courtly clothes behind – there would be something.

Pushing the door open she paused for a moment and glanced around deserted room. It would be hard, oh she had known that, but she always missed him. Heading towards a chest of drawers she frowned at the dust on the floor and the imprints her feet and trailing dress were leaving in it; she would set that to rights before he returned. What would it be to one day stay in these rooms? It was hard to keep to the task at hand as she knelt down and opened a drawer at random.  
Empty – except for a few dried orchids rattling around in it.  
Laughing lightly she shook her head and reached for the next drawer. Rummaging to the bottom to find something he did not wear often and would not miss Ariende found a greyish tunic with some simplistic embroidery. She held it at arms length, it would not look out of place on the boy and would probably make a good fit… she'd have to take it up a little…shorten the sleeves… and the same with any breeches but for now it would have to do.

Briefly bringing the soft material up to her face Ariende inhaled the familiar scent and sighed. At least he would be back soon, no point weeping like a fool over a stolen tunic she was supposed to be altering to be ready for a young lord very soon.  
"Isn't there a special guest who is probably boiling away in the baths or freezing to death waiting for some clothes by now?" A familiar voice near enough spoke her thoughts aloud.  
A small cry escaping her lips Ariende spun around, hastily stumbling over her skirts to the doorway and into open arms.  
"I do hope you're intending to replace that tunic…"

* * *

_A/N: Been very neglectful of fanfiction lately due to other commitments and lack of time but slowly getting back into the swing of things. Got a bit stuck in the Labyrinth (no pun intended) but was reading reviews of older things to pick up on any improvements I could make to my writing and felt I should try finish this off since some people had been enjoying it. A few chapters left in it so hopefully they'll continue to satisfy!_


	6. Nurtured

They had withdrawn to a quieter end of the long feast tables that lined the great hall and looking up at times to the boy who sat at the King's side in a rather loose tunic they discussed the young mortal boy.  
"Why did you offer your aid to him?" Beleg looked at Ariende closely.  
"Why did you yours?" Ariende watched him pause and stare at the boy again, and then nodded as if confirming something  
"I sensed something great within him, his journey had been long and arduous, upon the brink of failure and yet he treated me with as much equality as he did gratitude. He had journeyed daunted no doubt by his circumstance yet never once let it show to me or any others… valiant as his fathers of old… I had wondered if you had felt the same when his eyes turned upon you and yours on him."  
That was what she had seen in his upright stance, his level and direct manner with the King, was what she saw now as he stared about the hall, taking in every scene, every face, every gesture and sound with a childlike yet intense curiosity. Nodding she replied,  
"His pride amazes me, such noble grace in a child so young!"  
"Verily," Beleg agreed earnestly, "He offered his services to the King! I do not doubt he will withdraw the claim…"  
Unsettled somewhat Ariende glanced over the rim of her cup at the boy; it did not seem right one so young and troubled should be making such passionate decisions. Resting her hand atop Beleg's and lacing her fingers through his for comfort Ariende replied with hopeful observations  
"He is yet young, his heart burdened…"  
"Yet he will grow, and grow into the great name he bears. I have no doubt about it."  
"Then we must pray that the name does not carry fate with it," Ariende said with unexpected determination.

* * *

Needle flowing with less grace and ease than normal Ariende strived to keep her lines straight at stitches small as a dreaded conversation unfolded before her. Sitting amongst the others who formed Melian's ladies and with a few councillors and those bidden to the hall her eyes were focused upon the growing boy who stood before the King and Queen, his hopeful and eager expression plummeting.

There were gasps of mingled pity and shock as Túrin turned and ran from the hall, disregarding all. The tall doors banged loudly as he passed through them and all watched, still in their tentative silence. Thingol sighed and shook his head slowly, watching the doors as they still swung back and forth. Laying a hand upon his arm Melian turned to the ladies and spotted Ariende,  
"I believe Beleg is still residing here, perhaps it would be best for someone familiar to find Túrin lest he becomes lost in the woodlands, he does not yet fully know the hidden paths and ways and I fear he will wander far with his tormented thoughts,"  
Nodding, Ariende thankfully set her patchy needlework aside and swiftly located Beleg near the forges fletching some new arrows, as she had expected.

The large feathers moved with ease under his apt fingers and concentrated gaze, the pile of straight and deadly new arrows at his side were a reminder of a pending departure. Pushing the thoughts from her mind as his head lifted on hearing her approaching footsteps Ariende answered his questioning eyes  
"Morwen's response came…"  
It was all that needed to be said. With a slow, small shake of his head Beleg set the arrow aside and stood,  
"I feared this would happen,"  
"You were not the only one, the King was most grieved at his reaction."  
Briefly he clasped his hand over her shoulder and gave an encouraging smile on his way out,  
"Fear not, I will find him."

* * *

Needlework returning to a normal precision, Ariende sat more at ease; the tension had left the hall since she returned from Beleg bearing the tidings he would seek out Túrin. Eyes narrowing in concentration Ariende examined the twisting pattern of dark thread she had near completed on the green cloth for any errors, pursing her lips she hoped she would finish it in time. An announcement and the opening of the doors interrupted the light music that had been played and Beleg strode into the room, dropping to kneel briefly before the King and Queen. Hastily stowing the needlework behind her Ariende looked in vain, as did many others, for Túrin to follow Beleg into the hall.  
"Do not fear for your foster son is safe. Nellas found him," Beleg dispersed the faint look of strain upon the Kings face. The Queen was smiling,  
"We thank you for your efforts, as always you honour us Marchwarden. You plan to return to the marches soon I trust?"  
The inevitable unfolded before Ariende and she stifled a small sigh, another day or two had been too much to hope for.  
"You see my purposes too well my Queen," Beleg replied with a humble smile, "I come now to also inform you that this night I shall be returning to my duties upon the Northern marches,"  
"Go then with care and our blessings as always."  
At the King's reply Beleg nodded in grateful assent and turned to leave the hall, stopping only to nod at Ariende and to her rising joy bid her to meet him after her duties were completed; he would delay his departure until then.

The moment Beleg passed through the doors again and his backward glance at her had turned the other direction the green cloth was back in Ariende's hands, silver needle flashing with vigour as it flew over the cloth. She would finish in time.

* * *

Almost nervously she clutched the fabric to her as she walked towards an open doorway ahead of her. A head suddenly poked around the doorway, thin fighting braids that hung down in place of hair that had earlier been flowing free swung with the movement.  
"I thought I heard you coming!"  
"Ah, well none may sneak up on such a woodsman so it is well that I need not have to," with an irrepressible smile she hurried towards him.  
A querying eyebrow was raised as the folded item in her hands was noticed. With a short intake of breath and mustering of her courage Ariende shook out the fabric and held it up, waiting in trepidation.

Green eyes surveyed the green material and took in the detail, the precise cut and style of the tunic Ariende held out. It was not fighting dress but neither was it traditionally courtly; the cut was tighter than some of the looser court tunics and the collar was high yet instead of being loose and open as his tunics for the marches were it was cut closer to the neck in a much smarter fashion. And then the embroidery caught his eye, he gasped in astonishment  
"It bears the same patterning as Belthronding!"  
"I did need to replace that borrowed tunic…" Ariende's eyes sparkled with joy and relief at the sight of his face. The design had been a slight risk but it was worth it now, beyond worth it as the tunic was crushed between as Beleg pulled her to him in a sudden, exuberant embrace.  
"I am glad you like it," she said laughing slightly against his braids,  
"And I am glad to have it…"

As he pulled away slightly and slowly angled his head, Ariende felt a slight thrill of trepidation, entirely different from the trepidation she had felt earlier. Tilting her head slightly and fearing to even breathe lest the moment be ruined Ariende fought to close her fluttering eyes as he leaned forward again. Hesitantly his lips brushed against her own and slowly and softly that first real kiss deepened.

* * *

The day was growing in warmth as the morning wore on and Ariende delightedly lifted her face up to the sunlight that filtered through the trees. Having a vague idea of where Túrin could be found she had been sent to summon him to the halls and the King, summon him to an inheritance she prayed would not tie him closer to a fate. A ripple of melodic laughter interrupted her thoughts and with a satisfied smile Ariende turned in the direction of the sound. The trees thinned out before her into a small clearing where two figures ran and played in joy. Standing upon the edges of the trees Ariende watched with a grin as a blindfolded Túrin staggered at a haphazard pace after the fleet steps of Nellas, who was gaily running circles about the mortal child. Launching himself in the vague direction of Nellas, Túrin's wild leap managed to send them both tumbling to the ground in fits of laughter. Ariende could not help but join in.  
"Greetings!" she said warmly as they looked towards her, Túrin having pulled the blindfold off.  
"Are you looking for Beleg? He's left the woods again," the child's matter of fact words were met with a wistful smile on Ariende's part  
"I know… I was actually searching for you, your – " she had been about to say father, but bit her tongue at the last moment and thought otherwise, "your presence is requested in the halls for a time."  
Nodding, Túrin disentangled himself from Nellas who was already folding the blindfold away for another time,  
"I will see you soon my friend," she said and nodded in farewell to Ariende before disappearing off into the trees, her beloved home.

Túrin walked beside Ariende through the trees on their return and tried to persuade her to tell him the reason for his summoning. Shaking her head Ariende firmly told him it was not for her to tell and changed the subject, steering the conversation in a different direction,  
"What made you think I was looking for Beleg?"  
"I've seen you…the way he looks at you sometimes…" Túrin shrugged slightly and scuffed his feet, looking elsewhere. The perceptiveness and insight caught Ariende off-guard. They remained in relative silence for the rest of the walk.

_And __so after Ariende had brought Túrin before his foster father and he had received the grand helm of his father Ariende was there again to comfort his wild emotions. And pondering if she would ever know such grief as the mortal in her arms did_ _Ariende prayed not for she suddenly feared deeply to bear such feelings for a life as long as her own would be._


	7. Winters Chill

**A/N: **Huge delay with this story, apologies! I'm frustrated with it though as I feel only now in the penultimate chapter that I've really got a sense of the story and my writing is good enough to do it justice... but oh well! Enjoy, constructive criticism welcome as always...

* * *

Waiting alongside her was a boy growing well into his manhood. Ariende glanced casually across at Túrin's eager expression, the boyish enthusiasm in his eyes still not wholly concealed by the set jaw and proud, upright stance. Smiling, she turned back to her vigil and scanned the trees in front of her; word had been sent with the last change of wardens that Beleg would be returning to the halls at the end of the season, and so now she and Túrin awaited his return.  
The passing years and months had been pleasant indeed. With Túrin to mind and with Beleg having promised to instruct him there were many happy days for Ariende when her love was returned to the halls of Menegroth to begin their growing friend's instruction. Although he was busy and kept to his purposes there was always a sliver of time between just themselves for a walk beneath the boughs or a dance in the halls.

Drawing her thick cloak closer around her body, Ariende buried her face down against the biting winter wind that circled them. Shifting from foot to foot, part in an effort to warm up and part in agitation from waiting Túrin glanced, irritated, at her.  
"I don't know how you stand all this waiting!"  
"Patience is a virtue," she replied with a wink and a nod in the direction of the trees to the familiar figure she had just sighted approaching. Then with the fleet feet of the elves she dashed across the bridge and frostbitten ground to steal a quick embrace in her love's arms before Túrin could catch up. Ariende felt the laugh reverberate through Beleg's chest as he spun her around with the usual endless energy. Settled on her feet once more and at his side she tried not to grin at Túrin approaching with a roll of the eyes.  
"Greetings friend, I trust you are well," Beleg clasped the youth's shoulder warmly,  
"Well enough to perhaps best you this time with the sword!" the young man replied with a laugh, "It is good to have you back."  
Beleg's hand casually clasped Ariende's as the three walked back toward the halls, "Indeed it is good to be back. Hmm, best me? You know what they say about pride…"  
"No?" Túrin queried. With a sly glance for Ariende, Beleg slipped away and drifted to the forest edge again, effortlessly drawing his light blade and tossing it from one hand to the other, "Well you will soon find out young man!"  
Ariende could not help but smile and nod encouragingly to Túrin to follow to the practice grounds they often used, "I hope you do not find out too hard, for your sake," she joined in the teasing.  
"Beleg only just returned and we are training already, I wonder you won't curse me someday for taking him away from you!"

* * *

Slipping back into the warmth of the halls Ariende deposited her thick cloak and fur lined boots before making her way to the great hall, there was to be music and time for needlework and reading – a quiet but companionable courtly day. It would help occupy her mind whilst she waited for the tales and warmth Beleg would bring. It was not too long before she found herself looking up from the large standard Melian and her ladies were working on to the opening doors and her love striding through them. His eyes were purposefully settled on the King as he strode to the high dais and knelt before it, almost a different person to whom had spun her round gaily outside in the frost. It was frustrating sometimes, how he could separate everything out so.

"I bring word from the Marches needing your attention my Lord," his voice rang clear and strong about the halls, music faded out and the quiet hum of conversation died down. The fair face was grave and Ariende felt suddenly chilled, if word was so serious should he not have come sooner, perhaps he wanted to avoid attention, had hoped the rooms would be quieter? The King must have nodded for her thoughts were disrupted as the folk in the room began to disperse from their groups and filter out of the main doors. Threading her silver needle through the material over her lap Ariende secured her place and stitches before rising and brushing stray wafts of thread off her skirts. Amongst the movement she glanced to Beleg who stood quietly still in front of the dais. By chance he too, glanced her way and with a flicker of his eyes gestured to the presence chamber the other side of the hall doors. Nodding briefly she hurried out with the rest, not to delay any news.

With the thick doors closed behind her she waited restlessly, braiding the tasselled ends of her woven girdle. A noise broke her fingers from their nimble movement and eagerly looking up Ariende was confronted with a weary looking Túrin. Rolling his neck he looked ruefully at her, "Pride comes before a fall. And a hefty one at that."  
Smiling sympathetically Ariende was about to reply when the youth noticed the closed doors with a puzzled expression, "I came to tell Beleg I'd finished cleaning the training blades and placed Belthronding in his rooms… he said he was coming here but I didn't expect this," he said frowning at the doors.  
"No one expected this I think Túrin, I will tell Beleg for you if you wish to go, I made sure there were fresh towels in your room,"  
"Thank you," he sighed gratefully, she smiled gently at his retreating figure before turning her attention back to the closed doors behind her. It was tempting to listen, her worry almost drove her to it but it was not her place to know what was said beyond. If she was to know then he would tell her, but she feared there were many dangers and threats he left unspoken to save her concern.

Ceasing her pacing she forced herself to sit in one of the intricately carven chairs, hewn intricately from the very walls that surrounded her. It was a shame none of the other maidens had stayed, company and distraction would have been a relief from the stillness and creeping anxiety. Of late it seemed her thoughts oft turned to doom and fear no matter what Ariende could do to shake the feelings, perhaps she should consult the Lady. It was not wise to ignore such signs. Yet when she was with him the feelings abated and the world seemed bright again, then she did not try to fathom the treacherous turns of fate and the future before her.

So deep in thought was she that Ariende did not even heed the doors had been reopened until Beleg stood before her. Looking up as the shadow fell across her she was relieved to see the relaxed and confident smile she was used to back on his face.  
"You are released from your services for the rest of this day," he announced, offering a steady hand to help her up, "And I intend to covet all of that time for myself whether the fair lady minds or no!"  
"That is well, for I have much to ask you," she replied taking his hand, before she could even ask he cut of her words with reassuring tones,  
"Yes, how fare the Marches I presume?" closing his hand around her own Beleg began leading them away from the hall speaking evenly and calmly, "Yes, the situation around our borders has worsened yet it is nothing we cannot control. Try not to worry so, I will not let this evil prevail as long as I remain here,"  
"I know," she sighed wistfully as he squeezed her hand, "I wish the Noldor had not come bloody handed to these shores and bringing this war with them,"  
Slowly Beleg shook his head, "I feel this enemy would have reached us so with or without their war, love. Now, do not let trouble rest on your heart overlong, I fear you have been listening to too many of Dearon's songs," he winked at her and Ariende could not help but smile.

* * *

Needle readied, Ariende perched on the end of a bed and held up one of Beleg's tunics for inspection, trying not to think about how the large, stained tear on the arm got there. It was just about fixable without having to patch it though there would have been plenty of other items to sacrifice for a patching she thought with a wry glance the pile of clothes beside her. Initially she had begun mending things for him in her own rooms but as she was increasingly finding more wear or more rips it made much more sense just to go through his laundry each time he was residing in the halls.

Hearing the rushing of footsteps from the hallway she paused in her work and waited for Túrin to come dashing into the room, it was never hard to detect those steady steps.  
"You will find him at the armoury," she greeted Túrin as he stepped into the room looking about for Beleg,  
"Thank you," he bowed his head briefly, "I am doing so much I dare not miss any opportunity for practice! I can near outshoot him now though I much prefer bladework – there I think I may finally best him one day! I will be leaving for the Marches before long."  
"That is well, I am glad you continue to work hard and honour your name. Though what of your other friends?" Ariende tried to slip the question in as subtly as possible, "Nellas misses you…"  
The deep frown settled across Túrin's face all too predictably, she wished immediately that she had made no mention of the matter.  
"The same way you miss Beleg?" he retorted sharply, "I will not be trapped by love."

Holding her breath along with several sharp words Ariende looked down and continued with her stitching, letting him calm himself or leave if he wished. It was surprising when he spoke again so soon, a question fully of curiosity yet bluntly thrown at her.  
"Why are you not married?"  
Looking up at his face Ariende found herself caught in unexpected thoughts, "I… I…" she truly wasn't sure why. It wasn't that she did not wish to, and she suspected such was not the case on his behalf. Though as always it came down to his other great love and unfettered life. With a troubled sigh she shook her head and collected her thoughts.  
"It is not my place to tie him so. You've seen the way he is in his woodlands, the way his heart beats with that of the earth and the trees. My heart is happy to beat with his unrestrained, for it is all I love in him also."

* * *

Scents of spiced wine and fresh pine boughs filled the dancing hall and Ariende's senses as she was swept about the room. Winter was always a time of happiness for her for it was then that he stayed the longest and then that they would dance the most. Many were gathered in celebration, even Túrin now guided her to the timing of the music. Though his grip about her hands was near crushing Ariende said naught and smiled and laughed at his tales of training enthusiasm. The musicians had barely finished their playing when Beleg sidled up to them and claimed Ariende for another dance.

"He grows well," he said proudly, eyes following Túrin's retreating figure. And it was indeed true Ariende thought. He who was once a boy was now indeed nearly a man, steadily gathering the pride and stature of his forefathers he grew by the day under the care and tutelage of Menegroth. She only wished it was not the arts of war that he so flourished in. The next tune began and with their flowing steps her unease began to melt away, from over Beleg's shoulder she could see Túrin happily engaged in conversation with Celebros and several of the other wardens.  
"He will seek to leave with you soon, these halls shall not hold him for long… though there is much sadness, much anger in him" she could not stay the worry from her eyes as she looked back to her love, "and discontent lies in others."  
Beleg's eyes drifted slowly from her own across the room to where Saeros sat near yet far away enough from Túrin and knew if he'd care to look closer he would see the dark, envious looks. For a moment Ariende saw his lips set to a thin angry line before he shook his head and whatever troubled thoughts aside.  
"Túrin is sensible, he holds his tongue despite the insults and veiled jibes. I feel if it was myself confronted so I would strike the spite filled fool."  
Drawing closer to him as the music slowed and moved into a new tune Ariende squeezed his hand comfortingly as he let out a sigh, "Let us not mar this night with talk of envy or fear," she murmured against his ear as he held her, "I shall be comforted that such friendship will guard you both in whatever the future will bring."

* * *

_And so the years passed and Túrin followed Beleg to the borders whilst Ariende would wait for them both. Though it seemed the more he grew so did the sorrow inside, his pride would not accept comfort nor sympathy from his friends and so it grew._

Hurrying through the labyrinth of passages Ariende eagerly sought news of her beloved. Word had reached her that Túrin had returned at last from the marches and it was whispered that he was not himself. Heart besieged by the unknown it thudded within her as Ariende stepped into one of the lesser halls. Feet were brought to a jarring stop. Outlined in the low torchlight Túrin stood as one mindless, towering in his height above the stricken body of Saeros. "Túrin!" she gasped in horror as the hall exploded into frenzied life around her. In that moment she wished for Beleg as she had never before. Bodies shouted and restrained, pushed and gaped as Túrin strode through them towards the doors. No word could reach him and Ariende stared long after Saeros when he too left the hall with hateful and spiteful thought.

Unable to reach Túrin that night Ariende was restless throughout the night and next morning where she sat upon the grass with others of the halls in feast and pleasantry. It seemed as a knot was in her stomach though and she was unable to fully enjoy her company or the entertainment for the events of the previous night weighed heavy on her heart. And then, over the faint music played her hearing picked up the clashing of blades and cries of fear and frenzy. Before she could pause to think Ariende found herself chasing with the rest of the crowd, following them into the trees in dismay as she heard the clamour of sword and shrieking voice. The cries echoed around the trees, hate and fear seemed to fill the woods as her bare feet beat down upon the earth in an effort to keep up so she may do something, anything, to prevent events spiralling further out of control for she felt she knew too well what the cause of the noise must be. The long and heavy skirt caught about her legs and on branch and bracken as the chase led further and further on, greens of the forest blurring alongside her with the flashes of colour marking others in chase. Despite her efforts Ariende knew there was no chance that she could keep up with the swiftest let alone the frenzied speed that Túrin kept encumbered as she was. Eyes darting from figure to figure and to the way in front of her, she sought desperately for aid. The figure of Mablung was ahead, gathering up her skirts and lengthening her stride she strove to at least catch up, crying out his name, "Cease this madness for a friendships sake!" she called after him imploringly as he paused to turn. Seeing him nod before sprinting off Ariende let her steps slow and with that her thoughts ran wild.

With tidings of Túrin and Saeros hanging over her as a doom Ariende waited anxiously for Beleg to return, and prayed that he would return in time to stop any harsh or unjust judgement made against their friend. Knowing Túrin as she did, Ariende was sure that he spoke truly when he claimed death was not his intent. His flight into the wilds was all down to pride.

Striding to and fro across the bridge over the fast flowing waters of Esgalduin in her wait, Ariende sought for any means that could stay the oncoming trial should her love not return in time, or worse if they should not be able to think of means to prove their friend innocent. So troubled was she that she did not pick up on the faint approaching steps until she was grasped from behind and swung around off her feet.  
"Oh Beleg!" she cried, turning and holding him to her, "Never have I been more relieved to see you safely home,"  
"What ails you? Why this worry?" he asked, bright smile fading as he distanced them to look into her eyes.  
"I do not know how to break this to you love, yet our great friend is in dire need of your aid –"  
"Is Túrin well?" he broke into her sentence, face drawn with sudden concern,  
"I can only hope he is… he struck Searos and then beat him into the woods as an animal the very next day, I could not keep up, they were as madmen rushing through the trees - tidings brought back by the swiftest say that Saeros died in the rocky cleft that feeds this river and that though he denied any murderous intent Túrin would not stand to trial but fled into the woodlands" the words tumbled quickly from her lips as she tried to explain "I know he would not have done such a thing as murder or have shamed Saeros unjustly, as you would know, but he refuses to defend himself and they seek to sentence when the King returns within the week!"  
"Grave news this is indeed," Beleg murmured looking to the skies as if for an answer, "I had hoped it would never come to this and my coming to the halls is all but too late to aid him!"

As he slammed his hands down upon the bridge in frustration Ariende rested a calming hand upon his shoulder, "You can vouch for him and his honour, your voice is well heard and your word respected – surely that would be enough?"  
"But not long enough do we have to make a proper case before the return of the King and I fear our closeness could confound any word I say for him. And not long enough do I have to fetch him back either."  
They both paused in thought under the still moonlight, tense and fraught with their worry and the apparent direness of the situation.  
"There must have been some who saw it happen!" exclaimed Beleg suddenly, turning to Ariende for confirmation, "At least one runner must have been fleet enough to witness the event and confirm the truth we know it to be?"  
Sadly Ariende shook her head, "No runner from the halls, not even Mablung, saw the fall or what prompted the dreadful chase – if they had they would have spoken for they all love Túrin too…"  
"What of those who are not from the halls?" a lighter tone crept to Beleg's voice with hope "What of those who live in the woods, surely there must have been someone who –"  
"Nellas!" Ariende cried suddenly, grasping hold of Beleg's hand joyously "Nellas would have seen it, I am sure of it. Túrin cannot set foot amongst the trees without her watchful eyes upon him!"  
"I must leave now if I am to find her and bring her in time to save him, it will not be easy convincing her to enter the halls. You must speak for Túrin and delay any verdict for as long as you can."  
Eyes shining in the darkness Beleg stepped forward and kissed her swiftly on the cheek before sprinting off into the night.


	8. In Bloom

The usually bright hall seemed dark and heavy with tension, torchlight provided harsh golden light across the room of grave faces, with none graver than that of the king. Her eyes flitting from doors to witnessess to stern and sorrowful monarch, Ariende worriedly clenched her fists, nails digging into palm as a sentence loomed nearer and nearer. Her love's dear friend would never be returning to the fair woodland realm and thus her own love and joys would be ripped asunder.

In a haze it seemed her voice was called and guardedly she walked through the throng gathered to stand before the King and his councillors. Allowing herself one final desperate glance back towards the doors before she spoke Ariende gathered her courage and words. "My Lord King, as one who has known your foster son since his arrival here I would speak on his character and behaviour,"  
"But you saw not the event itself?" Thingol's voice though cold was strained and his fair face showed grief and great troubles."I saw only Túrin standing over Saeros in the halls, and only Saeros leaving with a baleful and hateful look. Though I am fleet of foot in dance and merriment I was unable to chase with the fast feet of Mablung or others who pursued the events of the following day. So in truth I saw nothing my King, though much I have seen of Túrin's life and much I know of his manner, please hear me," fearing her testimonial would be dismissed before she could even begin Ariende strove to keep her voice measured and even as she spoke. There was a silence as she finished and warily she noticed the looks between councillors and their glances toward the King, at least any deliberation on their part would give Beleg time he desperately needed. Her fears were soon forgotten as Thingol slowly nodded to her in indication to continue. Quickly gathering her thoughts again Ariende decided to focus solely on the King as she spoke, hoping her words would reach his heart where he surely knew Túrin could not commit the atrocities held over him.

"I cared for Túrin on the very evening he came here, mortal or no he was unlike any child I have seen – he was sombre, stern almost and with all the grace and courtesy of a leader of his land despite his age and terrible sorrow. Even with all the wrong and evil done to him then I felt no hate in him, only a pride of surviving - a pride well known to his people," she added, hoping to draw some of the venom that had been associated with his proud nature through the trial, "I watched him grow from intelligent child to experienced manhood under the care and tutelage of all here – and all who at least once loved him as I still do. When learning yes, he was impatient and angry, though only from burning a desire to achieve and to do well in aiding this land in all he could. As you all know, Beleg, one of your most respected wardens taught Túrin and found no fault nor cause for concern but only respect and the greatest of friendships,"  
"Beleg may speak for himself if he chooses," Thingol interrupted, "As close as you are I cannot allow you to speak for him Ariende,"  
"This I understand," she accepted, "Though at least please trust my word as one you know and one who has served you long: Túrin may be proud yet there is no malice nor scorn in his heart; he would not insult you so with such qualities."

The King's face remained emotionless and unreadable as Ariende was dismissed, as he passed her Mablung laid a hand comfortingly upon her shoulder. She prayed that at least his words and the telling of the full tale could turn the King's mind towards forgiveness. The doors had remained shut throughout, Beleg would have to hurry if he intended for Nellas to speak in time. Closely studying the face of the King as Mablung spoke it seemed as if he leant more towards Túrin as the events were revealed, it gave her hope yet further silence pervaded over the court once all had finished speaking and Mablung returned to his seat. The King's judgement reached her ears as Ariende frantically glanced towards the doors. He was too late.

Yet just as she watched the King's hand inevitably rise to seal the fate of her friend the creaking of the heavy oaken doors being swung drew her gaze away as Beleg strode hastily into the hall. A breath she had not been aware she was holding escaped her lips as the proceedings were momentarily halted and then completely stalled as Nellas warily crept into the hall behind Beleg as he entered the hall again. Though her eyes were fearfully wandering the room her face seemed set and she did not cower before the great persons she faced. Beleg slipped to Ariende's side and grasped her hand reassuringly as Nellas' small voice narrated all she had seen. From the clear and determined look in his eyes Ariende could tell that what Nellas had seen would change everything that had come to pass in the hall.

* * *

Whilst they were joyful that night there was no dancing. Despite the total pardoning of Túrin, Beleg sat broodingly in thought in his rooms whilst Ariende entered with steaming cups of hot drink for them both.  
"I will take gifts to Nellas tomorrow in thanks for her courage, if she had not spoke this would be a darker night," she said with a sigh as she settled on the cushions alongside Beleg  
"Twas only for her love of him that she stepped into the halls let alone spoke before such an audience. It is well he has those such as we three who love him,"  
"And it is well he has those such as you who would find him and return him to his rightful place here," Ariende agreed meaningfully, "I know you intend to leave and that is well with me; he is your great friend and I will not see you troubled so whilst he is absent from us."  
"I must go to him, I cannot have him feeling wronged and wasting himself in the wilds alone. His place is here, and I am the only one who could find him," Beleg replied, with eyes full of mingled apology and sincerity.  
"You do not have to excuse yourself to me Beleg," Ariende replied with a soft smile, "I would rather you away searching the ends of this earth than sat here like a caged animal,"  
"You do not know how much I love you," he whispered gratefully, suddenly pulling him to her in an embrace, "I will return, as always."

_And so she waited, stitching, laughing, dancing still but worry marred her spirit so her feet were not so fleet and her face not so fair. Many went to and from the halls and she looked hopefully at each face but the two faces she sought were never seen._

Eventually Beleg came unlooked for by Ariende, travel worn and right into the hall where she sat stitching and singing at the foot of the Queen. Breath was caught in her throat as she beheld him; great was her joy though also her worry at the sight of his downcast eyes and the trouble that lingered in them. Swallowing her exclamations and strangled gasp Ariende set her needlework down as her love revealed the sad tidings of Túrin to the King. Whilst he was grateful and kneeled before the Queen with honour as the sacred Lembas bread was gifted to him, it seemed to Ariende that his mind was afar and that not even the significance of the gesture could move his hard countenance. As he rose to leave the hall she glanced to the Queen who excused her with a short nod. Dropping her needlework Ariende hastened down the hall to catch up with him, Beleg had a smile for her though his tread was heavy as the left the hall.

"I could not bring him back, Ariende," he murmured despairingly as he dropped the pack he carried upon the floor of his room, he looked away from her and sighed heavily, her heart bled at the sight of him so desolate. Reaching to him she laid a pale hand gently against his cheek and turned his face back to her own,  
"Do not be disheartened so, your efforts have been greater than any, even if you do return alone to the halls – the honour you have been granted is testament to this. What you achieved in even finding Túrin is a great feat in itself,"  
"I know," he reached up his hand to cover hers with an apologetic smile, "It is enough, for now, to know that at least he is well and lives still,"  
"You should rest," Ariende suggested, smoothing the hair back from his sombre face, "Do not let this lay too heavily upon you else all hope will be lost for Túrin, we must believe in him still."

Moving away he rifled through his pack, sorting clothing from supplies and placing them in piles upon a sturdy oaken table, talking of his travel, of Túrin's health and over and over again of Túrin's pride and stubborn will. The pack emptied, Ariende swept the pile of worn and stained clothes into her arms for mending with a gentle smile, "Rest," she repeated, "On a tired mind you will achieve nothing and feel all the worse for that which is not your fault. I will have as many of these readied as I can before you are off to the Marches again," she gestured to the bundle in her arms with a sad nod.  
"Where would I be without my personal seamstress?" a grin ghosted across his face, then, with an afterthought he darted after her retreating form and held her back with a light touch upon the arm, "Wait, could you manage an extra?"

Pulling the tunic from over his head Beleg placed it on the pile in Ariende's arms. As he glanced to her face there was shock at her transfixed expression. Eyes unmoving and filled with horror she stood frozen to the spot starting aghast at his person. Following her gaze Beleg looked down in bewilderment, that was, until he saw the raw scarring of a burn across his chest.  
"That is no war wound," Ariende's voice trembled coldly as she held the bundle of clothing more tightly to her body,  
"His company is worse than I spoke of," came the low reply as Beleg stared off into the distance, as if past the uncomfortable truth and memory,  
"He did not – surely?"  
"No." Beleg's eyes returned to her, "Though I feared him truly lost to me, he lives as if in a den of thieves rather than the knightly halls he so deserves. He treated me, professed his love as a brother yet still remained behind."*****

It was not long, as Ariende predicted, before Beleg returned to the Marches with bow and knives that were sorely needed. Whilst news of the fraught struggles returned from the Marches, so equally disappointing was the fact that no word came from Túrin. Still Ariende could not believe his behaviour, or the tales of his new companions. As much love as she harboured for the man it became hard not to resent his stubborn pride, for the cost and sorrow it had cast upon Beleg. In the brief times he did return to the halls he seemed so terribly burdened and distant with thoughts and worry for his friend. It became an infectious concern for the both of them.

Whilst it pained her so and stirred shameful smatterings of jealousy and anger within her, Ariende could do nothing other than let her love go about his way and rule his life as he always had. It took a fine balance of love and wisdom to restrain herself; always the ever present knowledge that she would change all she loved in him should she try tie him down prevented bitter word or thought. The darkness surrounding her beautiful woodland home seemed to crowd in around them all. Many nights she would walk the hallways and passages, soothing her troubled mind in the cool of evening.

On one such night she passed by the doors she so often passed with a loving glance and saw a flicker of light from beneath the closed entrance. Halting in surprise she hovered outside the door listening for any intrusion, hearing only the faint sounds of rustling and footfall Ariende pushed the door open. A confused and hurt look stole across her face before one of joy replaced it at seeing Beleg returned,  
"I thought you were away until the turn of the season?" her voice rose in curiosity as he turned and revealed to her a great sword held in his hands, her eyes instantly narrowed upon seeing such a dark blade, "The bow suits you better."

Immediately setting it aside he crossed the room to her and pushed the door shut behind them, taking her hand he led her into the warm glow of the firelight with words that tripped and tumbled in their haste.  
"Do not misunderstand, I had hoped to find you later but I fear I must explain now," taking a deep breath he continued with a narration muddled by desires and passion, "Our love can be ever long and ever lasting in its sweetness and its joy, but I have only a small score of years left to hold a love in brotherhood. Whilst all I would like in this world is to here and with you, it tears me to the soul to think a brother is fading away from me down the cold road of mortality. If I cannot bring him home then I shall go to him and return when all is done so he stands between our love no longer."  
"I have always loved you for the freedom and wildness in your heart, I have not held you before and I shall not hold you now," slowly and carefully came the reply, in a pause Ariende swallowed hard and shook herself, as if with great resolve before looking up into his face again, "Put me from your mind, do not let such things hinder your task. I will be ever waiting."

Relief washed over his face but Beleg did not miss the strain in her voice or the forced calm to her resolute pose, "You are not happy," regret and sorrow tinged his voice as he tried to read the masked expression on her pale face.  
"You will range far and for a long time I deem, for that man's heart is set and his thoughts on returning will not have changed. I would be happier if I knew I was with you in part as those are who are wed -"Ariende could not stop her words and did not want to let the catch in her voice show but show it did "I have never sought to ask you for I would never tie you to a purpose but it would give me hope to know that…that upon your return… that.."  
"That we would wed?" his voice betrayed nothing as Ariende wrung her hands in anxiety and awkwardness, nodding she managed to continue, wishes tumbling unrestrainedly from her lips,  
"…That I would not be apart from you in full again after this and that I would have some comfort in the years that are about to pass, I would not seek to bind you and your feet would be free to wander where they would as they always have been, only that I, in some small way could still be with you and know you are mine. I would not seek to ask you now at such a time but for the heaviness of my heart…"  
"And I would not seek to force you to ask in such a position but fate is oft unkind," his eyes looked away and past her figure, staring into the warm orange glow of the firelight as a soft smile touched his face, "I would seek to ask you on a sunlit path with orchids about the ground, or in a music filled hall with your hair tossed from dancing, but instead I ask you now Ariende, my love, if you would be my bride upon my return to these halls?"  
"I would."

Tears of both joy and sadness brimmed at her eyes as their hands gripped tightly between them and her forehead rested lightly against his  
"Stay beside me this night."

_And so Ariende found what it would be like to stay in those rooms, though perhaps not __quite as she had imagined it. For they simply lay awake, in each others arms until the candles and fire had burnt out and her namesake was beginning a journey across the skies. They lay together, lost in thought and feeling until her love arose and left her standing upon the bridge as always._

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*** **In The Children of Hurin it is written that the woodsmen didn't get to burning or harming Beleg but it also isn't written that they were stopped wholly in time either. Furthermore it is written that Túrin did tend to Beleg so I'm using creative licence with this point.

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A/N: Well I hope this has been enjoyed by those who have read it, if not let me know why (constructively please!). I am not too happy with the first few chapters of this fic, a lot of work could be made on them, however, I feel the last few make up for it.


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